


Delusion

by statisticsfag



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: M/M, Unconscious Sex, therefore non-consensual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-25 00:09:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4939192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/statisticsfag/pseuds/statisticsfag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short story about Ocelot taking advantage of Big Boss during his coma.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Delusion

**Author's Note:**

> http://statisticsfag.tumblr.com

Ocelot had lost count as to how many times he had done this already. Once again, he was giving in to the need, to the temptation in the form of the comatose John. A chair had been placed in front of the door to serve as a warning system in case someone decided to barge in between the nurses rounds. Ocelot knew he had plenty of time; the staff would come and move John from side to side in two hours’ time.

Licking his lips, he climbed atop the hospital bed, straddling the man lying in it. He had already discarded his trousers and boots and peeled back the thin layers of cloth covering John. The last rays of the evening sun filtered through the blinds, creating alternating stripes of light and shadow.

All of this had begun with that article, Ocelot thought as he began unceremoniously stroking both of their cocks to hardness. It was a research paper in a medical journal on the different types of coma and the differences of central nervous system activities. The purpose of the article had not been very useful to him, but the implications found amidst the medical terminology piqued his interest. _Comatose patients could get boners._ Essentially, it was the same as morning wood.

And as if on cue, John’s thick prick started to harden in Ocelot’s bare hand, nerves and muscles responding to physical stimulation even without consciousness. The rest of John’s slimmed down body stayed relatively still as Ocelot worked his cock, twisting his wrist at the tip. He noticed John’s breathing increase, could feel his pulse quicken. He didn’t want to waste too much time on getting John hard, as the risk of being caught was always at the back of his head. He strongly doubted that he would be allowed in the military hospital again if someone saw him now. For him, getting aroused by the situation was not difficult. He had waited for this.

He was grateful for the extensive visiting hours at Dhekelia. His line of work hadn’t really any schedules, so longer visiting hours meant more chances for Ocelot to drop in and visit John. Everything changed with that article and the information he gleaned from it. Instead of seeing the comatose John as a passive, unresponsive object to guard, his appearance mutated more into a vibrant human being. He had felt a giddy excitement bubbling in his mind, like a child on Christmas morning. After all, John was practically gift-wrapped for him.

When John was fully erect, the veins of his swollen cock distinct, Ocelot poured a little lube on his hand and smeared it on John’s cock. He had prepared himself beforehand, wet fingers stretching his hole open in the nearest bathroom. Ocelot took even the precaution of rolling a condom on himself, to help him ensure that no traces of their encounter would be left behind. John had yet to come during these trysts. Ocelot wasn’t sure whether it would even have been possible. But it was easier this way.

He leant forward, guiding John to his hole. His eyes never left John’s face, committing every little detail to memory from the lines around his closed eye to the slight gap between his lips. Holding on, Ocelot slowly lowered himself, a sneer escaping him.

“I wonder what you would - ah – do if you woke up now,” he said quietly, relishing in the feeling of John’s hard cock splitting him open. He had waited and chased after John for long enough; when a golden opportunity like this was presented to him, he wasn’t going to let something as ambiguous as morals come in the way.

By the time he had sunk down all the way, there was sweat forming under his moustache.

“Would you put your hands on me—“ Ocelot panted softly, grasping John’s hands and placing them on his hips.

“—and, mmh, pound into me? Or—“ he started rocking gently, sitting up on his knees.

“—would you throw me off?”

As soon as Ocelot let go of John’s hands, they fell back down, limp. Now used to the feeling of being spread open in such a profound manner, he started to drive his hips in a wider range. It was just what he expected, the slide of John’s cock inside exciting him further, a red flush emerging on his chest. He was panting in time with his movements, hands on John’s chest supporting his frame.

“Will you – ah – remember this when you wake up?” he asked, throat dry, knowing full well he wouldn’t get an answer.

“Will your body remember how it felt, being balls deep inside me?” To emphasize his point, Ocelot slammed down hard on John’s pulsing cock, a moan slipping from his mouth. Usually, he was good in keeping his voice down, but sometimes, when his need was the most intense, he’d have to gag himself with a leather glove.

“Fuck, John… This is going to be so much better when you wake up,” he said. John’s passive body was dipping beneath Ocelot, sinking into the mattress, head almost nodding on the pillow. Ocelot bent down again to passionately kiss John’s unresponsive lips, hands sliding on each side of his head. His hips kept on moving, shoving himself up and down on John’s cock.

“Next time, I’ll fuck _you_ ,” he growled, feeling the heat pooling low in his stomach. “Maybe that will wake you—ahh!” A shudder passed through him like a surge of electricity, the head of John’s cock brushing against his prostate.

Straightening himself, Ocelot tugged at his own erection, knowing he should finish soon, before the muscles in his thighs would give out. He was leaking in no time, synchronizing the rhythm of his hand and his hips, thrusting frantically in his fist.

“Hah, ah, fuck, ah, nngh, John!“ A string of broken profanities left his lips between ragged breathing. He was so close now; he could feel it, the strain making his toes curl. Finally, he reached the edge, falling over it into the exquisite spread of fire-hot satisfaction, white liquid filling the tip of his condom. Head drooping, he breathed deeply a few times before extracting himself, wincing at the loss of John’s still hard cock.

He didn’t want to leave; he just wanted to stay for a while, basking in the afterglow. Unfortunately, such luxuries were beyond a man molesting a comatose patient. Ocelot had to get both himself and John cleaned up, leaving no evidence behind. He was nothing if not thorough, tying the used condom on a knot, tossing it away only when he got outside the hospital. He put on his clothes, body throbbing and wiped John’s groin with a damp tissue. He straightened John’s gown and pulled the sheet on him and even opened the window for a while to ventilate the room. At first he had been at a loss about what to do with John’s erection, but figured that it would subside on its own.

Ocelot walked stiffly to the door to retrieve the chair to its original place. He sat down and pulled his boots back on, breathing almost normalized. He’d wait a while longer to be certain of his and John’s appearances, and then slink out of the room, avoiding any and all staff on his way out.

He had lost count, but knew that this wouldn’t be the last time.

Unless John woke up.


End file.
